Tag Archives: Babies

The 4 Levels of Diaper Change

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Earth Tone Number 1

Level One: The Wet Diaper

Degree of Life Interruption:

Minimal.

What Gets Ruined:

A diaper, possibly some dinner reservations.

Eventual Result:

Remember to add diapers to grocery list. Remind spouse to empty diaper pail.

Earth Tone Number 2

Level Two: The Dirty Diaper

Degree of Life Interruption:

Medium.

What Gets Ruined:

A diaper, some pants, romance.

Eventual Result:

A bath for the kids.

Earth Tone Number 3

Level Three: The Pooplosion

Degree of Life Interruption:

High.

What Gets Ruined:

A diaper, pants, shirt, socks, all plans for the following 2 hours, satisfaction with life choices.

Eventual Result:

A bath for the kids, a hot shower with lots of off-market horse soap for the parents, a stiff drink, the lingering possibility of never eating or feeling compassion again.

Earth Tone Number 4

Level Four: The Poopocalypse

Degree of Life Interruption:

Life?? YOU CALL THIS A LIFE?

What Gets Ruined:

A diaper, pants, shirt, socks, sheets, wallpaper, toys, and the desire to carry on this pitiable, masochistic existence.

Eventual Result:

Vasectomy.

7 jokes that are *apparently* not funny during labor

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
2

Let this serve as a guide to all you future fathers out there – there are some situations in which “lightening the mood” with “super-funny” “jokes” is probably not going to do anybody any favors. The final stage of labor is definitely one of those situations.

(Or so I’ve been told.)

(Repeatedly.)

Earth Tone Number 1

Hey baby, you’re doing great! Is there any chance we could just move things along a bit? I told my brother I’d meet him for a beer later.

Earth Tone Number 2Good pushing honey! Wouldn’t it be crazy if it turned out to be twins?

Earth Tone Number 3Wow, that looks like it hurts. I mean, just . . . wow. Ouch. Seriously, that CANNOT feel good.

Earth Tone Number 4Could somebody get me a stool? I’m exhausted.

Earth Tone Number 5I know we’ve been over this, but *how* sure are you that it’s mine?

Earth Tone Number 6Hey I was just talking to my Mom and apparently ENORMOUS babies run in our family! Isn’t that great?

Earth Tone Number 7I probably should have discussed this with you first, but I sort of told this girl at work you’d be a surrogate for her after you’re done with this one. That’s cool right?

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Expecting a baby? Better catch up on your sleep!!

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Why do people say this when they find out you’re going to have a baby?

Expecting? Get some sleep!

First, I’m pretty sure most expectant parents are aware that sometimes babies wake up at night.

Second, how, exactly, do you suddenly extra enjoy something you’ve been doing your whole life? Bigger bed? White noise machine? A blanket made of soft, purring, albino kittens?

Third, and most importantly, say you did somehow figure out how to find sleep especially enjoyable while expecting.

Say you do find a way to really relish your rest, savour your sleep, suck the marrow from your nightly unconsciousness.

I love sleep!

Then the baby comes and your life is COMPLETELY RUINED because now you’re so in love with sleep that your mewling little puddle of crying poo could never compete.

I hate sleep!

Yay! Sure glad I trained myself to LOVE AND APPRECIATE sleep there for a few months before my life got ruined.

Want to come over later and kick my dog and light some of my art on fire??

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Word Problem, House Cleaning Edition

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Solve For X

A baby and a toddler are playing with toys while their father is alone with them, cleaning the house.

If the baby (A) is able to mess up 12 toys, 2 diapers, 1 cup of water and 3 books per hour, the toddler (B) is able to mess up 8 articles of clothing, 7 crackers and 123 toys (124 minus the 1 that she puts away after she’s done with it) per hour, and their father (C) is able to clean 90 items per hour (without food, water or bathroom breaks), then at what amount of elapsed time does the father (C) finally say “screw this” and turn on the football game (X)?

Babies are terrifying. And they TOTALLY always mess with me.

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Before I had kids, it absolutely made my stomach turn when parents offered my their babies to hold.  It was nothing but awkward for me . . . and yet you really cannot say no.

When that happened, my thought process was always something along the lines of . . .

“How the hell do I hold this thing?”

“Isn’t there some neck support stuff I’m supposed to be aware of here?”

“Am I hurting it?”

“If I look at it wrong will it cry?”

“What do I do if it cries?”

“Should I rock it or bounce it or will that also hurt it?  How does that work with the neck support stuff?”

“What if it pees on me?”

“Aren’t they like dogs and bees and can smell my fear?”

“If it smells my fear, won’t it cry and pee on me?”

“Well it hasn’t cried or peed on me so far, but what do they do, anyway?  This is a little on the boring side.”

“How long do I have to hold this sack of meat?”

“Uh oh, its mother is watching me – quick, make faces and noises like you like her kid.”

“Hmm . . . that was embarrassing.”

“Maybe faces and noises but with less enthusiasm.   More manly-like.”

“Wow, that’s didn’t work AT ALL.  Now the baby’s upset and I’ve somehow managed to look even less manly.  Now what?”

“Quick – find a grandmother or a single woman in her 30s.  They’ll be all over this baby like Ke$ha on an unprotected shot of whisky.”

And now?  Now that I have kids and another parent hands me their baby to hold?

Well, the only thing that’s changed is that I know how to hold it.

(Sort of.)

I’m not proofreading this post – it grosses me out.

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Our son is at that magical, charming, endearing age where he is not yet old enough to be potty trained, but is plenty old enough to prefer not to hang out with a diaper full of his own filth.

His latest “hinting that he wants to be changed” technique?

Sticking his hand in his diaper, pulling it out and holding it up as if to say “see?  I need to be changed, like FOR REAL!”

(Yes, that was the non-graphic version.  You’re welcome.)

Now, I’m sure some parents will tell you “oh, it’s not disgusting, it’s just a part of being a parent – I really don’t mind, because he’s just such a little miracle and I’m just oh so very blessed that scraping poop off of 4 square feet of baby parts is really not a chore, it’s just a different kind of blessing.”

Those people are known as alcoholics.

In reality, this sort of thing is disgusting on a level that non-parents cannot possibly understand.

Oh no, not in that condescending “OMG you’re not a parent you COULDN’T POSSIBLY UNDERSTAND” sort of way.  No no, I know that non-parents could not understand this because if they did . . . if explosive diarrhea was really covered in the “So You Want to Procreate” brochure . . . nobody would ever do it.

No children would be created.

This holiday season’s craze wouldn’t be the Furbee or Tickle-Me Elmo, it would be Mass Vasectomies.

You really want to fuel the abstinence movement?  Forget fear of Hell . . . bring the fear of poo-smearing toddler into the mix and that whole unwanted teen pregnancy thing?  Like, totally solved.

Surprise! It’s a . . . ewwww, gross.

Posted on by Before I Had Kids
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Before I had kids, I had a very different perception of surprises.

Surprises used to be fun.  They used to reveal items of wonder and joy.  They used to come on special occasions, and used to be surrounded by happy people having fun.

And now?

Now that I have kids?

Now, surprises are the last thing one hopes for.

A few precursors to undesirable surprises:


“I don’t feel so good.”


“What does this button do?”


“I think I’m having an accident.”

 

And the prototypical signal of bad surprises to come . . .


“Oops.”


There are few words in the sphere of human language that can invoke absolute panic in a parent to a greater extent than the furious terror of the word “oops.”